Made of Glass
by PackUpTheMoon
Summary: Sometimes, Kurt forgets that he isn't the only fragile one in this friendship. One-shot.


**Alright, so it was pretty much ''Attack of the Plot Bunnies'' in my brain ALL WEEKEND. More like ''Attack of the Plot Invasive Species'' by the way they just crowded out everything else. **

**So I pretty much threw this baby out there, no proof reading, no spell-checking, just BAM. So I'm sorry that it's rushed and choppy and pretty much a whole pile of craptastic Klaine.**

**But please, don't hesitate to give me constructive criticism! I love it. I'll take notes and apply to all of my work in the future :) **

**And to those waiting for an update on ''Someone Like You'', I swear to God it is on it's way, but like I said, ''Attack of the Plot Invasive Species'', all weekend.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee, yadda yadda yadda, you guys know the drill.**

**To conclude . . . here chu go! What my brain vomits up at 2 a.m!**

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><p>Sometimes I forget that I'm not the only fragile one in this friendship. Sometimes I forget that I'm not the only one who has suffered, even though it seems like I am. I let myself believe that I am not the strong one, but that he is. He is the one that holds me up when I just want to collapse into myself.<p>

But he has his own demons. Ones that he hasn't let me close enough to see, or to try and heal. I think he's just as damaged as I am, on a certain level. I know that he needs someone, but I know he's afraid to ask for someone.

Ask for me.

Maybe I'm just imagining that he wants my help to fight his demons, maybe it's just the love struck schoolboy within me that wants me to think that he wants me to help him find the light in the dark.

But I can only hope that one day; he'll fully let me in, and let me be the strong one for a change.

* * *

><p>He looks haggard. There are dark circles beneath his eyes; his hair is dishevelled and unnaturally carefree. He has a five o'clock shadow, one that makes me simultaneously want to rip my clothes off and groan in annoyance. His uniform looks like he just threw it on, which is funny, because he usually makes himself look impeccable. You'd think that because I'm his roommate, I'd notice these things before now.<p>

Maybe I'm not very observant.

But in truth, he usually doesn't let himself go this much.

''Are you alright?'' I ask, and he looks up from his lunch, eyes curiously blank.

He blinks twice, and nods. ''I'm fine'' he mutters tonelessly, and I lift a brow.

''You'll need to be more convincing than that if you want me to believe you'' I say, and the corner of his mouth quirks into a smile.

''I'm just fucking exhausted'' he exhales, running a hand back through his hair. ''Schoolwork is just stressing me out'' he says, and I purse my lips.

''Not convincing enough'' I say, and he laughs, reaching across the table to catch my hand in his.

''Kurt, I swear to God I'm alright. Just tired'' he grins, but his eyes remain blank. ''Look, I'll see you tonight, okay?'' he says, ''I'll be in the library until late, so you don't have to stay up'' he flashes me a half hearted smile, and leaves.

* * *

><p>The next time I see him, he is sitting on the floor outside my French class, head between his knees.<p>

''Hey'' I murmur, coming to a stop in front of him.

He looks up at me, looking more dishevelled than he did at lunch, and I sigh.

''What's going on?'' I crouch down next to him, taking in his state.

''I'm actually just exhausted'' he laughs, ''stupid nightmares have been keeping me up . . .'' his jaw clenches, and he looks away from me, hands flexing into fists.

''Nightmares'' I repeat, and place a hand on his knee. ''Do you want to talk about them?'' I ask, and he shakes his head.

''I don't need to talk about them'' he replies sharply, standing up and gathering his things.

''Come on'' I straighten up, and reach for his hand. ''They're bothering you. Just let me help''.

He yanks his hand out of mine, and cradles it against his chest. ''I don't need help'' he spits, ''I just . . .'' the rubs his eyes, ''I just need to get to the library. I have to study'' he looks up at me, ''see you later, Kurt'' he says, and walks away.

I bite my lip, but I don't follow.

* * *

><p>''It's the nightmares'' Nick says, and I look up at him.<p>

''What are you talking about'' I lift a brow, and he sits on the couch next to me, taking a quick look around the common room.

''He's in the library'' I say, snapping my book shut, and Nick lets out a breath.

''You asked me what was wrong with him earlier'' Nick says, ''it's the nightmares''

''Well, yes, I know that. Does he get them often?'' I ask, cocking my head to the side.

Nick nods. ''They come in bouts. When he and David were roommates last year, David told me that at least twice a month they would come, in bouts of three days or so'' he explains, and I wince.

''Did –did he ever tell David what they were about?'' I ask, and Nick shakes his head.

''He'd tell David that they were nothing to worry about, and that he could handle them on his own'' explains, and I narrow my eyes.

''Typical'' I say, and Nick chuckles.

''Look, if you get the chance, try and help him. He kind of turns into a mess when the nightmares come, and all of us know that he really, and I mean, _really_ needs someone, even if he won't show it'' Nick finishes, his dark eyes boring into mine.

I want to say that I'll make everything okay. But I know that it will be hard. After a few moments of really considering what I'm going to say next, I exhale.

''I'll give it my best shot''

* * *

><p>I open my eyes when he comes back into our dorm at eleven thirty, and stare at the ceiling until he gets into bed.<p>

I know it's wrong of me to be doing this, but I don't know. I do stupid things from time to time, so this is just another stupid thing to be added to the list.

At around midnight, he starts moving around, _a lot. _Like more than he normally does. And then he starts whimpering.

I clutch my blankets closer, eyes wide. He sounds so . . . _broken_. And I know what broken sounds like, hell, I've sounded like broken for the past sixteen years of my life.

I get out of bed and pad over to him, kneeling down so I am at his level. ''Hey'' I whisper, shaking his shoulder lightly.

He gasps, and shakes awake, eyes guarded as he shifts quickly into a sitting position.

''Hey, it's just me'' I murmur, reaching to turn the lamp on, ''it's just me''

He rubs his eyes, ''K-Kurt'' he rasps, ''what time is it?'' he asks, and I look at the digital clock on his nightstand.

''Quarter after twelve'' I reach out and clasp his hand in mine.

''What is going on'' he brings his knees up to his chest, eyes wide.

''I think you were having a nightmare and I didn't want you to . . .'' I trail off, not really knowing where to go from there.

''Oh'' he deadpans, ''well, you can go back to sleep, I'm okay, you don't have to worry about me'' he says, attempting to take his hand from mine.

''Blaine'' I say sharply, ''you're obviously having issues . . . and I want to help you'' I say, clutching at his hand. ''You've been so helpful, with me, and all of my stupid stuff, I just want to be there for you'' I rant, and he bites his lip.

God, why does he have to look so damn attractive doing that?

''I don't need anything'' he says, ''I can deal with it on my own'' he tells me, smiling weakly.

''Because you've been dealing with it so well'' I say coldly, and he lifts a brow.

''What is that supposed to mean?''

''Have you actually looked at yourself at all? You're a mess, Blaine Anderson, and I've heard from teachers that in the course of two days, your work has been getting poorer and poorer'' I say, ''you obviously aren't coping as well as you'd like to think you are''.

He groans, and buries his head in his knees. ''I just, don't want you to look at me differently if I let you in'' he mumbles, and I bark out a laugh.

''Seriously? That's what you're worried about?'' I laugh again, ''God Blaine, what am I going to think? Oh wow, look at him, he has nightmares'' I smirk, ''you're a complete goofball. If anything, I'll just see you as more . . . multi-faceted, I guess'' I tell him, and he lifts his head.

''What, was I only one faceted before this?'' he cocks a brow, and I stick out my tongue playfully.

''Dreadfully so'' I joke, ''now come on, Blaine Anderson, let me in''.

He is quiet for a moment, and then shifts over and pats the empty space next to him. ''Alright, come on in, Kurt Hummel'' he says, and I clamber into the bed next to him, keeping a platonic distance between us.

But because he is the King of Mixed Signals, he cuddles into me, arms yanking up the covers until we're snuggled beneath them.

I tentatively slip an arm around him, and rest my chin in his soft curls. ''Alright'' I say, ''tell Doctor Kurt about these nightmares''.

He chuckles, and begins. ''It's the same every time. I'm standing in the living room back home, and I'm alone, as usual'' he takes a breath. ''And then my father is there, with that same look of utter disgust from when I came out. And he's just telling me over and over and over again that he doesn't have a son, and I tell him that it's me, and I'm here, and he just says that one word, that one word that hurts so much and I think you know what that word is, and I'm not saying it'' he shakes his head, and grips me tighter.

''its okay, sweetheart'' I murmur, ''just let it out''.

''And then I'm at school, at it's those four boys, the same one who were there at the Sadie Hawkins dance, and they're just, pushing me around, kicking me down, and repeating that same word, over and over and-'' he stops, and laughs, but it sounds like he's holding back tears. ''You must think I'm ridiculous'' he chuckles, nuzzling into me.

I run a hand through his curls (which are just as soft as I've imagined . . . but that's not important) and sigh. ''I don't think you're ridiculous at all, having nightmares is perfectly normal'' I give him a squeeze, and then take a deep breath. ''If you want my opinion about them, I think-''

''No, no, no'' he shakes his head in protest, ''I feel better just telling you what I've been feeling, and I don't think I want any comforting support and ways to overcome them'' he says, and I nod.

He is (I suddenly realise) as fragile as a glass vase. It looks sturdy, and it can withstand being dropped and thrown around. But the more damage done to it, the more cracks appear on the surface.

Blaine has cracks in his perfect foundation, I see that now. But who doesn't? We all have our weaknesses. But that doesn't mean we can't all be strong about it.

''Just try and go back to sleep, okay?'' I say, trying to pull out of his grip.

He shakes his head, and tightens his arms around me, yanking me down until my head is on his pillow, and his face is buried in the crook of my neck. ''Stay'' he whispers, his breathing making my skin tingle.

I smile to myself, and reach over to flick off the light.

We are both weak. We both feel like we're going to break from all the things that keep us chained to the past.

But we can be strong together, can't we?


End file.
